


Yeah, That's My Vow To You

by ghettoassenglishman



Series: Take my hand--Take My Whole life too [15]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Boredom, Conversations, Cuties, Fluff, Ian and Mickey are really bored and really hate the grooms suit, Imagine your OTP, M/M, Oaths & Vows, Weddings, like loath entirely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-20 11:15:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3648291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghettoassenglishman/pseuds/ghettoassenglishman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Well, you see, when we turned to watch the bride walk up the aisle, which was boring as fucking hell by the way, I couldn't help but notice how great your ass looked in that suit.” His voice was low, seductive, teasing. “I might have been thinking about that for some time afterwards.” </p><p>(Your OTP is bored at a wedding)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yeah, That's My Vow To You

**Author's Note:**

> So, I really found this cute so I had to do it!! Layout is a little weird but will sort it out when I get on my laptop
> 
> p.s trying to imagine Ian and Mickey are actually happy because the show thinks otherwise 
> 
> If you want a prompt doing, check my tumblr out ; im-an-angel-y0u-ass.tumblr.com

 

Mickey was bored. Like – wanting to chop his leg off and wave it around to make entertainment bored. He and Ian had been sat in the same place for three hours since the ceremony. They couldn't drink either – Ian had his med's that fucked up his alcohol intake, while Mickey had to drive home. They had Yevgeny to look after, who had been running around the wedding hall for hours, and driving home drunk was technically against the law, and _obviously_ Mickey was being the respectable adult. So he continued to sit with Ian back at the bar, watching their work colleague brose himself up for his best man speech, wallowing in their own boredom.

Ian grunted, picking his glass of water and taking another sip. It wouldn't be too long before they were supposed to be relieved by Lip, who would take Yev off their hands for the night, and he figured one whisky later was the least that he deserved for being stuck at this wedding in the middle of nowhere. At least they had a decent room in the hotel to fuck in – but the shit thing was, he didn't want to drink alone, not now Mickey had to drive them to that hotel.

“What?”Mickey asked around his own glass.

“I didn't actually say anything.” Ian shot back, wincing at his own snappy attitude.

“I know idiot, but you grunted like a little bitch at something and I'm just _dying_ to fucking know why.”

Ian raised an eyebrow at that, smirking. “Really?”

“God, fucking yes. I am _so_ fucking bored.” Mickey pouted, with his sarcastic tone.

This made Ian smile, Mickey made is easy to smile. Ian waved his hand in the direction of the stage where the band were playing. “I'm trying to decide if I think it’s lame or whether it’s, y’know, not.”

It all did look a little set up. “’Lame or not lame.’ Sounds like some shit game show on a Sunday night.” Mickey joked, as Ian gave a half-hearted eye-roll but couldn't stop the smile that flashed across his face each time Mickey caused a tumble weed. “So what exactly is it that you haven’t decided is lame or not? The band? Or that ugly ass fucking suit he's wearing?” Mickey asks, the both of them staring towards the head table at the grooms white suit, that they had been taking the piss out of since they arrived.

“Even though the suit if fucking _hideous,_ and the band suck ass, No, look at the screen. Recognise the words?” Ian rambled on. Mickey turned his head to look at Ian's point of direction and started to read the words sweeping across the screen behind the band.

“Uh, what exactly am I looking at? Some cheesy-ass poem that you fucking know, or some shit?” Mickey looked confused, squinting to the words on the screen.

“You really don’t recognise those words?” Ian looked surprised. “Fucking hell.” He muttered to himself in stifled laughter.

“Do I fucking have to, it's just words, Jesus Christ.” Mickey really didn't give a shit about some rom-com bullshit projected on a screen, it was sad, it was hopeless, and he felt that if the groom loved his wife that much he wouldn't need some words to fucking show that. What Mickey knew is if shit like that was what _Ian_ wanted he would most likely give a shit.

“Uh, were you actually paying attention during the ceremony?” Ian was taking pleasure in how nonchalant Mickey was acting, until the brunette turned and shrugged. “Those are their vows.” He gasped, remembering how that was the only good part of this shitty-ass wedding.

“Oh. Right. Their _Vows_.” Mickey tried to think why he couldn't remember.

A worrying thought suddenly crossed Ian’s mind and he turned her body round to face Mickey, he felt a little paranoid and he wasn't sure why. “Mick,” his voice low and firm, “where exactly _was_ your mind during that ceremony?” He didn't even want to know, or maybe he did. Whatever.

Mickey remembered vividly what was on his mind, and it made him snigger. He turned slightly towards Ian, leaning back and resting his head on his elbow, which was propped up on the bar. Mickey was seriously tempted to mess with Ian and tell him he had been thinking about them getting married but since that would likely mean that one of them was sleeping on the sofa in the hotel, he decided to tell the truth.

“Well, you see, when we turned to watch the bride walk up the aisle, which was boring as fucking hell by the way, I couldn't help but notice how great your ass looked in that suit.” His voice was low, seductive, teasing. “I might have been thinking about that for some time afterwards.” Ian was starting to feel grateful for how open Mickey had become. “Still thinking about it now, if I'm honest.”

“About my suit?.” Ian was going for incredulous but it came out in a slightly higher pitch than intended, Mickey had caught it and it made his smirk bigger. Ian knew what Mickey had meant, of course he fucking did.

“About what is _under_ that fucking suit. About me taking that jacket off. And-“

“Yeah, I get the picture Mick.” Ian swallowed, caught somewhere between being turned on, wanting to fuck Mickey right on the bar _right then,_ and being annoyed that Mickey had spent most of the ceremony in a much ‘happier’ state than he had. “We still have a few hours of this to see out so keep it in your fucking pants. Assuming Lip doesn't get tied up with fucking some college teacher, _again,_ and can find this fucking place.”

“Fine.” Mickey pouted again, trying to win Ian over. “You better give it to me fucking good later. And don’t mention Lip being tied up again. Total fucking mood-killer.” That definitely made Ian smile, Lip and Mickey had what you would call “tolerable” friendship. “I'm still trying to forget his stories of being in the swingers-club.”

Apparently Mickey couldn't stand any silence, for once in his life. “Maybe it’s not totally lame and you're just being fucking pissy. The vows on the screen. I mean, at least they wrote their own. The traditional ones kinda suck balls, thought you'd fall head over heels for that shit?”

“Its just, why the hell does the groom have to spell out why he loves her, he shouldn't have to fucking _prove_ It.” Ian spoke with intent, Mickey nearly gasped at how he had just thought that a couple of minutes back. “ _Obey_ my fucking ass.” Ian spits out, reading the vows off the screen.

“Oh, I will -“ Mickey was on it before Ian could stop him.

“Fuck off, Mick” Cue more putting from Mickey. Ian leaned in to Mickey's space, “Seriously, how am I supposed to get through the next two hours if you keep on driving me towards having a fucking hard-on?” Ian voice was low and insistent. “I want to fuck you right now, on this fucking bar, but having a wide audience while I worship your ass isn't really in my “to-do list””

Mickey swallowed, his pants always got tighter when Ian got dominant and that powerful voice came on. It didn't help that he was wearing suit pants, he could hardly move anyway. If he had only been joking about being turned on before, because he definitely knew he was now. he forced his mind elsewhere before he popped a boner. Back to those vows, that for some reason really pissed Ian off.

Mickey smirks to himself, ready to pull Ian's leg. "I can imagine your vows." Ian raised an eyebrow as she listened to Mickey clears his throat to proceed an Ian Gallagher impression."I will sometimes let you sleep when I chat too fucking much, I will let you drink whisky from my chest, _Sometimes_ I will even cut out my cheesy bullshit that I annoy you with, _all_ the time."

"Was that supposed to sound like me?" Ian rose an unimpressed eyebrow, then he laughs. “Whisky, really?”

Mickey shrugs and has a bit of his drink. "Yeah, maybe I need to work on that."

“I'd rather you didn't. I like it.” Ian was quiet for what seemed to Mickey like a lifetime, only because Ian was smiling like an idiot and he didn't know what to say. "But, uh, that's probably about right, apart from me annoying you, you _love_ it really.” Mickey shows him his middle finger. “I mean, what I _might_ say.” he caught Mickey's lips edging up into a smile, prompting him to hastily add, “Not that, I know you-

“I fucking hate weddings.” Mickey finishes his sentence for him.

"I know.” Ian then interrupts. “ _This_ ,”he nodded in the general direction of the wedding party, and the crowd surrounding the newly wed's. “Isn't for me either.” Ian adds, knowing he hates fucking weddings because of _one_ particular reason.

Mickey nods, knowing that Ian deep down wanted something like this. The sappy shit he was. Now, they came to a pause, again, so Mickey brought up the vow conversation up again. “humour me, Gallagher. What do you think _I'd_ say?"

“In what?”

“Vows, you fucking idiot.” Mickey tries to hide his smile at how dumbstruck Ian looked.

Ian paused for a moment to think about Mickey's request, before turning to face him, his face a picture of intensity and seriousness, as he pretended to slouch on his seat. "I will support you by breaking the kneecaps of the old fucks that try to touch you , I'd beat up or shoot bad guys. I will understand that sometimes being the big spoon isn't as pussy as I make it out to be, I understand that second breakfast is a legitimate meal and that only _Ian_ can eat my jello."

Mickey chuckled. Trust Ian to have two-thirds of the vows related to food and the other one about kicking ass. “Ay, no one gets my jello. Not even you.” Mickey warns with a stern finger, before polishing off his glass.

“Tough luck, I had some this morning and you didn't give a shit.” Ian teased.

Mickey grabs onto Ian's tie, bringing him closer. “You _Didn't?”_ Ian nods, deviously, and smirks, “I did.” Mickey then bites his lip and the only thing he can do is mess the shit out of Ian's hair, so he does.

Mickey hadn't been lying – he didn't want anything like _this_. None of the show-off bullshit. All he needed was some cheap-ass ring, one of their names to be changed – they could do that themselves, they didn't need to gather family up just to prove what they already had. Mickey just wanted Ian to know that he, Mickey belonged to him. The only thing he wanted from Ian was for Ian to be okay with that; _I am yours._

Mickey swallowed again, this time nervously "Those _are_ good. But you did miss out a few, though.” He glanced over at Ian, who had a curious expression on his face. “I think I would also have to say: I will not forget to keep you safe. I will give you space when you fucking need it. You and Yevgeny come first, _Always._ "he looked right at Ian as she said the last word, needing him to not doubt his sincerity.

“Don't forget 'Lana you _ass.”_ Ian felt his eyes water as he laughed, pushing them back he nearly choked on his words. “I think I might have a few more too.”

"Yeah?" Mickey said, apprehensively.

"Yeah. I don’t think that they’re as, uh, _good_ as yours though. Well, its me they _have_ to be good.” Ian almost looked nervous through his laughter. This was not something Mickey was familiar with. He fought the urge to reach over and touch Ian's face to stop him from freaking out.

Ian continued, “I promise not to roll my eyes at every suggestive comment you make, or shitty as joke you try and pull.” This made Mickey smile – he knew how hard _that_ would be for Ian, the redhead always hated Mickey's crude and less polite ideas.

Ian looked right at Mickey when he added, “I will try not to make jokes about your height, or the fact you do that sniffle thing in your sleep.” Mickey relaxed a little, smiling, swatting at Ian's head as he was waiting for one of those jokes. While it wasn't exactly a public reciprocation, it seemed that Ian hadn't been totally freaked out by what Mickey had said.

Mickey was surprised when Ian looked away, he was never shy, then took a deep breath, before closing his eyes, adding softly, “and I will hold you when you need me to.... and sometimes when you don't." Ian peeped his eyes open, smiling his tooth-eating grin.

Mickey thought that his hazel eyes had never looked so big, so bright, so beautiful. He could see the hope and the fear burning behind them, displaying a vulnerability he had never seen in Ian before. Mickey hated displays of love and cheesiness, but this felt _right,_ it was as if they exchanged their rings just now.

Ian then reaches over to the bar, grabbing napkin he makes it thinner by folding it. “I know it ain't a fucking gold ring or anything like that, but you _still_ got to wear one.” He pulls it around Mickey's ring finger, and ties the end. Mickey watches in awe, noting that this was better than any other ring he could have received. Then he reached over to the pile Ian had grabbed his from, he took the napkin and folded it, wrapping it around Ian's ring finger, tying it.

“See, we don't need some posh venue and red roses to show how much we love eachother, all we need is a couple of hours of boring torture, a couple of non-alcoholic drinks, A band that ultimately sucks balls, one hideous white suit and two napkins. ” Ian smirked, leaning into Mickey and catching his lips within his own.

“Fucking weddings.” Mickey mutters to himself, smiling at Ian.

“ _Fucking_ weddings.” Ian agrees, pulling Mickey into a kiss as the band started to play some cheesy-ass first dance song.


End file.
